Legacy
by AResidentGhost
Summary: what if...Christine had twins, but the Father was Erik, and one of them took after him? EC, RC, based on a variety, mainly ALW. Leroux, and Kay
1. Chapter 1

1888, June 20

_It has been months since there has been an incident at the Opera Populaire in Paris. But I must wonder is it really over? I feel the child stirring in my womb. I know it is probably wrong to do so, but I do not want to tell Raoul about that last night with the Angel of Music. Perhaps I shall never tell him what had happened. Does Raoul ever need to know what happened before he arrived to rescue me from my dark fate?_

_--Christine de Chagny_

* * *

2018

No one ever told me of neither my parents nor my ancestors. All I have is this diary, which is one hundred years old. And I know not whose it is. I have an idea that it is of someone named Christine, or if it is even real. I don't even know how old I really am, for I seem not to age.

* * *

1888, October 31

_Oh, God, what a relief to be relieved of the burden of pregnancy! Twins! Who would have ever imagined? Ah, but at the birth, it was evident who was the father with the little girl. The horror! Just like him! What shall I do with the poor child? And here, I thought it was over and done with!_

_I wonder if he's even still alive down there in those cellars… As soon as I am able I shall see._

_--- Christine de Chagny_

* * *

2018

I have no memories of my childhood, yet something keeps nagging me at the back of my mind… Return to the Paris Opera house, it tells me. How can I return to someplace I've never been to?

* * *

1889, January 18

_Mercifully, she is silent most of the time. I shall keep her until she outgrows the diaper stage. My, but she grows fast! Both of them, actually. How much longer can this ruse successfully go on? I try to not cringe when I see her face, but it is so hard! I am afraid of when she can talk, afraid of the endless questions. How will I answer to the fact that there are no mirrors in her room, but instead, in her brothers?_

_--- Christine de Chagny_


	2. Chapter 2

2018 July 4

_Am I going crazy? I do not know! For all my life, my eyes have been blue-black, yet today, when I looked into my mirror, they shown yellow in the dim morning light in my room! I never noticed that before. What's more, when I turned the light on, it went away, but my eyes were not the same as I've ever known! They were mismatched! Somehow, this did not strike me as odd. In fact it seemed almost natural. Why?_

_Slowly the pieces of the puzzle of my past are revealed…_

_--- Angelique_

* * *

1889, September 20

_The twins are just about a year old and it looks like there will be no stopping neither their development nor their growth! At only four months they were walking, and at five, talking! And I was right. The incessant questions about the lack of mirrors in her room, about why she must stay in her room while her brother, Charles, does not when company is in the house._

_I know I should not feel this way, but I do! (And it drives me mad!) What can I do, though? I don't want to do it, but the time has come when neither Raoul nor myself can hide from the truth nor hide her…_

_Is he even alive still?_

_--- Christine de Chagny_

* * *

2018 October 30

_I followed my instincts and came to France. Paris, to be exact. Why? The rumors of course! The legend! But, is it really just a legend, as many say it is, or is it the truth, with a few changes to make it seem legendary._

_Something tells me I will find answers at the Opera House. We shall see…_

_--- Angelique_

* * *

1889, October 31

_It breaks my heart to see her go, even though others, including, at times, my husband, see her as a monster. Poor thing, she has never been anywhere but our house._

_She protested violently, but with a stern warning, she reluctantly cooperated. I told her that she would never go outside again, if she did not cooperate. I wrapped her with a large, dark cloak. Her head and face was cloaked in shadows._

_"Maman, where are we going?" Her voice, when she speaks, is sweet and melodious, in a word: heavenly._

_"For a little walk, my dear. The destination is a surprise."_

_It is the last time I believe I ever really heard her speak. Oh what a fool I was!_

_--- Christine de Chagny_


	3. Chapter 3

2018 October 31

_I visited the opera today. I almost wish I hadn't, but I am glad I did. More pieces have fallen into place. And my face! All I ever remember seeing was a clever mask! And the mask cracked and shattered today, after someone tried to mug me. Or was I even being mugged? I just remember falling._

_When I woke up it was dark and no one was around. I struggled to get up from what I now realized was the floor of the stage of the Opera. Pieces of porcelain are scattered on the floor in front of me. It's dark, but I can see like a cat. Another piece of the puzzle has fallen into my lap. How the hell did I get left here? Best I can tell, I wandered off to look at something and fainted._

_Anyways, this place seems almost too familiar… Like I lived here before. Yet another puzzle piece to my missing memories._

_A light! So bright it pains my eyes. Instinct is telling me to flee. I obey, following unbidden flashes of memory. Down, down, into darkness I flee! Where I go, where I am headed, I do not know for sure._

_---Angelique_

* * *

1889, October 31

_He hadn't changed at all since I last saw him. Still refuses to let others see his face._

_"Why have you come back? Do you wish to hurt me further?" He snarled. Still has a temper._

_"You are not alone," I offered. "At least not anymore."_

_"What do you mean?" Erik inquired. "Who…who is that with you?"_

_"That…is your daughter."_

_"My daughter? What is her name then?"_

_"She has none as of yet, I thought you might like to name her."_

_"I shall call her Angelique, she will be my little Angel."_

_"She is all yours, my Angel of Music."_

_As I watched her calmly go with the man I used to call master, I wonder how he'll react when he sees her. Will he have pity? Will he be full of anger once again? Will he show her the care and compassion that neither Raoul nor I were ever able to give?_

_I fear these questions go forever unanswered. But I have made arrangements. If ever (or when) I die, this journal shall be given to her. I hope that then she will have the answers that she and I seek._

_I must, though, forget all about her. For our safety and hers._

_--- Christine de Chagny_


	4. Chapter 4

2018 October 31

_I found myself far below the ground level of the street. How did I get to these cold, damp, dark cellars? My memory of my passage is but a blur. I have found myself once again on the ground. I seem to be falling quite a bit lately. Maybe I should go visit a doctor._

_A pale blue light surrounded me. So it wasn't completely dark, I guess. I could smell water. What the hell? It seems I have come to the edge of an underground lake. Memories surface of a woman and a man in a mask…and a boat. As quickly as they come (the memories), they vanish. Who were they? Why did I think of that? More importantly, what were they saying or even doing? It seems so important, like it is an important piece of my history._

_There should be a boat, I think as my mind starts to go on autopilot. My mind is numb, but my eyes are wide open, drinking everything in. A stone wall: why did I come here? My limbs, which I realize are skeletal, thin, and boney, move like automatons. A hidden door opens before my very eyes._

_Dust. It is everywhere! I fumble around for a light switch, but find none. How am I supposed to see? Ah, yes! Candles! I could use candles! And there is a plentiful amount of them around! And there are matches—right there!_

_I strike a match and light a candle. The darkness lifts a bit with a warm, gentle glow. I go around lighting more and more candles. A part of my mind awakens and releases a flood of memories from my vanished childhood…_

--- Angelique

* * *

1889 October 31 

_Who is the masked man? Why am I going with him? Why isn't Mama coming with? Why? Why, why, why? I start to cry. I doubt anyone can see the tears on my face in the darkness. Mama! Don't leave me! Please! I have done nothing wrong!_

_The man takes my hand. His fingers are cold and thin, thin and long like mine. Is he my father? Why, then does he wear a mask?_

_"Don't cry," he says while wiping my tears with his soft cloak. "No one will harm you, least of all, me."_

_His voice is soft and angelic. It calms my turbulent emotions inside my head. He sings a soft lullaby, and I fall asleep._

--- _Angelique_

* * *

1889 November 1 

_She's asleep, the poor thing. Does she even know? I'd hate to see her go through all that I had to. All the rejection, the hate, the fear. Oh, how could God have done this to another child? How?_

_She takes after me in every way. It is intolerable, the fate that awaits her in the outside world! I will love her as best I can…_

_(Erik)

* * *

_

_Where am I? This isn't my bed!_

_I begin to cry. There is a damp chill in the air, like the cellar in Mama's house. _

_"Mama?"_

_A music, soft and gentle, yet full of emotion, fills the air around me. It fills my mind._

_"Papa?"_

_--- Angelique_

* * *

2018 October 31 

_Was this my home for a majority of my childhood? Despite the dust, it matches my early memories. Has no one even come here?_

_A little cleaning, and this hobbit hole could become habitable._

_I decide to explore more of this lair and the secret passageways and trapdoors. No one knew or knows these secrets better than Erik, and I may be the only one left alive that knows his secrets. Broken mirrors everywhere, were they always that way? One room was left untouched. Father, yes, my real father, often spoke of mother, who I barely remember, as that being her room and allowed no one, neither father nor me, to venture inside. What is in that room, what is behind that closed door?_

_Curiosity overcomes my respect, after all, am I not the only one here? The door, it seems, is not locked. And I wonder if it ever was._

_For some reason there is very little dust for not having been touched for so long. And there, or by (or against) a wall, was a mirror! And in that mirror was a monster! I turned around to look to see where the monster was, but I am alone! I walk up to the cold glass, feeling its cold, indifferent smoothness. And the monster touched back! I let out a painful howl of fear, and I black out as another memory surfaces unbidden…_

_--- Angelique_


	5. Chapter 5

1898 December 3

_Angelique has grown by leaps and bounds. She's so tall now! I have taught her all I know, and she is but ten years of age! She knows her way around the Opera Populaire and all its many miles of secret passages. She is strong and can climb like a monkey, not surprisingly she reminds me of my youth._

_Tonight, she wanted to go to an opera. Of course, I had to write another _note_ to the managers, reminding them of the terms of my contract and the situation with box five…_

_We arrive early. She asks why we must go so early and cannot watch the people as they come. I was shocked! Had she no idea why I never take us outside together? I do not want to hurt her feelings with humanity's ignorance. So I told her that we are ghosts, phantoms! And did she want to frighten all the people away? To this, she replied, "No, it would be wrong," in her clear, angelic voice._

_(Erik)_

_

* * *

I was so excited! I'd never seen an opera! And papa was attending with me! He's never done that before! I wonder why? He would teach me all about the music and the operas, but would never let me see them…_

_(Angelique)_

_

* * *

What a fat cow Carlotta is! She cannot sing; and she cannot act! If only Christine still sang. Sigh. But it is impossible now. She went off and married that fop, Raoul! At least I have a daughter now, and that comforts me very much in my bouts of black melancholia. She is at times, literally, the light of my life._

_I must make a point of telling the managers of the lamentable mess that was tonight's performance! But, at times, it was actually enjoyable, I must admit. I know I saw Angelique wince a time or two as Carlotta struggled to hit the high notes. I know how she must feel—because for me, it felt like a knife had been repeatedly stabbed in my heart and chest!_

_(Erik)_

* * *

2018 November 1 

_I've cried myself to sleep, it seems. How horrible! A visage of death stared at me! Is that me? Is that why I never saw a mirror in my youth? My fingers, they are very thin, long, and skeletal, feel my face, what there is of it. I shiver at their cold touch. Where is my nose? I have no nose!_

_A mask! I need a mask! Where can I find a mask? Who would ever love me again? How will I be able to travel without suspicion and fear following in my footsteps? No! I do not want it this way! Why must this happen to me?_

_What cruel hand of fate has dealt me this new, horrible blow?_

_--- Angelique_

* * *

2018 November 2 

_Decided to venture outside the house in the lake. Ventured even higher into the Opera house, I found whole rooms of clothes. I chose a variety of masks, including a natural-looking face. It would be useful for getting around outside._

_My favorite mask, though, is black, trimmed with gold, and set with jewels. Of course I took it, could prove useful. Well, you never know..._

_I wish I could intermingle with the crowds of actors, actresses, set technicians, stagehands, and other assorted people working within the Opera house. Oh, to have a normal face and a normal life!_

_--- Angelique_


	6. Chapter 6

2018 December 3

_Have found a stash of gold coins (obviously French) and many, many precious gems. And a note:_

My dearest Angelique:

I know how much you'll need it if you ever come back as an adult. So I have stashed some of my fortunes here for your use. For although I may be an accomplished magician, I will not always be there to protect you from the horrors this world can present to you. I hope that until now, you have had a good life. How long did the mask last? I would love to know… if I should be fortunate enough to live as long, I shall come back every fifty years.

Your loving Father,

Erik Noir

1920 October 31

_Tomorrow, I shall go shopping! I've already determined the coins to be valid tender. Bur it most assuredly won't last. One night I had sneaked into the managers' office and read the contents of the contract. Ah yes, I have an idea! Time to write a note!_

_--- Angelique_

* * *

1905 May 30 

_I don't understand. She acts totally indifferent to her dark fate in this life. Lately all she talks about is wanting to go aboveground—beyond the Palais Garnier. Whatever gave her that idea?_

_Today she asked to go shopping. Women! Although I can understand. She has grown so much (especially in height) that most costumes that I can filch from the Opera wardrobes and what she has now do not fit._

_So I told her we could go if she agreed to wear a mask._

_"Why must I wear a mask?" She asks in her heavenly voice that I absolutely cannot resist. (Though I can tell where she gets it from.)_

_"Do you want to scare people with your ghost-like qualities?" I ask._

_"No, I would not want them to be neither unduly frightened, nor be recognized as a ghost," she sighs._

_"I will pick one out for you."_

_I chose a flesh-colored cloth mask fir her. She accepted without comment. I realized that for most of her life, she had never been outside the Opera. How would she react to all the people?_

_--- Erik_

* * *

1905 May 31 

_She (Angelique) was unusually quiet. Could it be she was actually afraid if the other people? Have I raised my child to be afraid of people, outsiders, and crowds? How? She has never shown fear of anything else. Everyone mistook her for a man. Is it because she is so thin? She has barely a chest on her, not like her mother. Is that how my angel can be mistaken for a man?_

_She did not like any of the dresses I had procured for her (although I doubt that they would have fit anyway), except for one. It was, of course, black and was made of velvet. She insisted in me buying her dress clothes made for men rather than dresses! What kind of girl child have I raised?_

_--- Erik_


	7. Chapter 7

2018 December 4

_Went shopping today. Seems to be many little shops all along the streets and boulevards! And they sell all manner of things! I do not know how, but I seem to be quite fluent in the native language of Paris, French. I could converse with the shop vendors, and none even suspected that just within this past year even, I was in the United States of America._

_Got myself some black dress pants! Well, what did you expect? Can't exactly "haunt" the Palais Garnier in a dress! However, most still mistake me for a man! Am I too skinny to be a woman? But I thought it was all the rage to be thin, i.e., not fat. Or is it because I barely have what the ruder, rougher sex calls a "rack"? I am sick of it! Of all the confusion!_

_Ah, well, perhaps it is for the best that I am thought of as a man. Less discrimination, more believability. People tend to question less a man, asking for such as I ask, but a woman? If they knew, everything would be ruined._

* * *

1907 January 17 

_We are leaving the Palais Garnier for good, even Paris and France, within this month. I have decided to immigrate to America with Angelique. She is eighteen now, turned that age last October 31. Yes, I know that that is All Hallows Eve, and it is very ironic that she should have been then, as she was born with a death's head like mine…_

_She does not need a wig to cover a sparse head of hair like mine, although it is not because of my age—it has always been that way. No, she is lucky that way. Full head of long black hair. What? I have never had it cut!_

_All the same, I believe we must leave. People are getting suspicious, and it has not been long since I have caught an intruder who dared to venture out on the lake, despite the warning of the presence of its sirens. I fear our secret is out, and that they soon will have revenge! I certainly hope not, as my little (not so little anymore… ha ha!) Angelique has done nothing worthy of their revenge._

_---_ _Erik_

* * *

1907 February 1 

_We are on a boat! I do not know where we are going; only that it is an ocean away. Some place called America. Papa says I must not leave our stateroom suite without my mask. He had said that twice before, earlier in my life—first, before we went shopping, and the second, just before we left. Why does he keep saying that? I really do not understand._

_I am not, however, saying that this room is at all uncomfortable, as it is only too comfortable that I do not feel safe as I did in me and papa's old hone by the lake…_

_(Angelique)_

_I hope I have not upset her too bad, what with the sudden leaving of the only place she has ever known her whole life. At least she seems to be enjoying the trip at least. I have saved quite a fortune over my stay in the Paris Opera House from the managers._

_(Erik)_


	8. Chapter 8

1907 December 31

_We have managed (or at least I have) to secure a nice mansion near the heart of the city, but not too close to the nosey populace. Poor Angelique. She knows barely a word of English. I wish I thought of this before. But, alas, I fear my tendency for hastiness has not truly prepared me for a life with a child,_

_I shall have to hire a tutor for Angelique in English. I know a few of English, mostly from my travels and from the operas and other books of the library of the Opera de Paris,_

_Since I have brought much of my wealth with me, I owe not a thing for the house. I've managed to increase my wealth after only a few mishaps, by investing in new ventures._

_It's not like I need more money, but I have learned at least one lesson in my travels, and that is to always have extra in case of emergency._

* * *

2018 December 28 

_What should I wear? There is to be a masked ball (ha! Would I ever need a mask?) on New Year's Eve. Shall I invite myself to this grand party?_

_Should I wear a mask? Or go as myself as Death, with the perfect mask—none at all! Or should I save that for Halloween? I should wear a mask, but what kind? What one? I know I have a multitude of masks available to me, but I must decide on a single one._

_--- Angelique_

* * *

1908 April 28 

_How much longer can the ruse go on with my Angel? I think she may be starting to get suspicious. "Papa, why can I not go outside like other people? It looks so, so pleasant outside!"_

_I can hardly deny her anything at all, least of all something she says in that melodic voice of hers._

_"Papa, why?"_

_I have to think it over for a bit._

_"I am sorry, ma __Cherrie__, I am, truly sorry. But I don't want you to be jeered at," I confess. _

_"But why would I be jeered at? Papa, why do you wear a mask?"_

_How do I broach the subject of her face, her deformity, so very close in resemblance to mine? This godforsaken face, which condemns me to live a life of isolation with my daughter, Angelique. That she be condemned to this lonely life would be an insult!_

_"Because I do not wish to frighten people, as you know, I am a ghost," I say quietly. I feel guilty about not telling her fate, or rather her predicament. I don't want her to her to face the rejection, the fear, or the hate I had to endure throughout my life._

_--- Erik_


End file.
